


Giving and Taking

by sunspot (unavoidedcrisis)



Category: Horizon: Zero Dawn (Video Game)
Genre: F/F, Keeping warm, Mention of Hunting, crafting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-20
Updated: 2020-02-20
Packaged: 2021-02-22 14:06:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 738
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22817467
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/unavoidedcrisis/pseuds/sunspot
Summary: Ikrie says it's all about when to give and when to take. It's Ikrie's turn to give.
Relationships: Aloy/Ikrie (Horizon: Zero Dawn)
Comments: 6
Kudos: 56
Collections: Chocolate Box - Round 5





	Giving and Taking

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Serie11](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Serie11/gifts).



Sitting close enough to the fire for her skin to feel tight and hot, Aloy is trying to chase the cold from her mind when Ikrie returns with fresh meat for their meal.

"What is it?" Aloy asks, not able to identify it immediately.

Ikrie grins. "Beaver. Cleaned it already. Beaver makes the best gloves."

"Really, Ikrie, again? We've been through this. I'm fine, I swear."

Ikrie just shakes her head. She's been shooting scornful looks and making 'tsk' noises under her breath at Aloy's wrapped hands for weeks. The long strips of soft leather that protect her palms while leaving her fingers free to grip a hand hold or a bow are sort of pitiful when it comes to keeping her warm. But Aloy's tried the thick, padded Banuk gloves and she can barely grasp her spear, let alone anything more delicate. It makes Aloy appreciate how Ikrie keeps up with her or sometimes outpaces her when they hunt or climb together all the more. 

"You're not fine," Ikrie says matter of factly. "And you'll be even less fine when your fingers come off."

Tanning hides takes time, of course, so it'll be weeks before Aloy has working gloves. Ikrie starts throwing hers to Aloy most evenings when they stop for the night. "Get used to wearing them. You're never going to want to take yours off," Ikrie promises.

It's not impossible to have dexterity in them, Aloy is slowly learning, but it doesn't come to her easily. She practices with her bow and spear, knocking over pillars of snow that Ikrie helps her build.

"You're doing well," Ikrie tells her, stealing her gloves back, but tucking them in her pack instead of putting them back on. Aloy quirks her eyebrow, questioning.

Ikrie holds her hands out to Aloy. "Here."

She is resolute and blunt in everything, which Aloy understands and deeply appreciates, but Ikrie also doesn't always reveal much and it leaves Aloy mystified sometimes.

Aloy presents her hands. Ikrie takes them and holds onto them.

Oh.

This, Aloy can handle, probably better than a bow or a spear. They sit in silence, listening to the evening around them. Their campfire crackles hungrily at the wood, a boar snuffles in crunchy snow somewhere not far off, the wind moves slowly but unerringly.

When the hides are tanned, Ikrie starts stitching. Aloy hass mended clothing and and her own leathers before with tricks Rost taught her, but never made anything from start to finish. She finds it fascinating and horribly dull, all at once.

"You know," Aloy starts idly. She's been watching Ikrie hunched over the hides with waxy threads and a sharp metal needle for three nights now. Her back must be aching and the way she stops to shake her hands out every so often makes Aloy's finger tingle in sympathy. They must be numb and stiff. "You don't have to do this for me."

Ikrie sighs and sets her stitching aside. "I'm hungry, you get me food. You're thirsty, I share my water. I'm bruised, you find me hintergold under the snow. You're cold, I'll hold you closer. It's all giving and taking, Aloy, that's what relationships are. I'd like to give you these; you're going to take them. Okay?"

Aloy doesn't protest again.

The mittens, four days later, are presented with little ceremony, but Ikrie's eyes sparkle in the firelight. "Try them out."

All the weapons practice with Ikrie's heavier gloves was helpful, though Aloy suspects she'd have been fine without it. They fit perfectly, like a second, very much warmer skin.

"They're perfect. Thank you. I… don't know what else I can say. I've never gotten a gift like this before."

Ikrie beams. "Good. Now let's move on. I saw Scrappers in the next valley and we could use the parts."

Awash in feelings and thoughts she'll have try to verbalize later, Aloy stares down at her hands. Finally, she senses Ikrie shifting in her boots, waiting for Aloy to say or do something other stare wonderingly at her new gloves.

Aloy kisses her. Ikrie lets out a huff of laughter into Aloy's mouth, a perfect noise at a perfect time, then she kisses back as uncompromising as ever. Ikrie's fingers go to Aloy's hair, toying with the braids she so often admires. Aloy is warmed, thoroughly and entirely, and it's got nothing to do with anything she's wearing on her hands.

**Author's Note:**

> Happy Chocolate Box (late), Serie11. <3 <3


End file.
